


Challenge accepted!

by raiyana



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen, Some Crack, Some Fluff, Some Humor, Some Romance, random moments
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-14
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-14 13:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13009020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raiyana/pseuds/raiyana
Summary: Collection of drabbles and tiny ficlets featuring... well, anyone ;)Everything that's too small to be posted on its own.





	1. Gifts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mainecoon76](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mainecoon76/gifts).



"It's a bow."

"Of course, it's a bow. And arrows."

Tyelko looks at him as though _Curvo_ is the daft one.

"It's his first begetting day!"

"Exactly! Have to start early to make him a great hunter!"

" _First begetting day!!_ "

"Sorry, my love, but  _you_ made him a hammer..." A soft voice and a baby's gurgle interrupt the brewing argument.

"His _name_ is _Telperinquar._ He _needs_ a hammer _."_

"Your  _father_ got him a soft toy rabbit. Even Ambarussa managed a gift that _couldn't_ possibly injure my son!" 

Curvo's ears burn; Tyelko looks smug only until her glare finds him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 99! The toy rabbit has sapphire eyes; Nerdanel may have provided Fëanáro a list of age-appropriate gifts, but he can't help adding a bit of sparkle. She has learned to live with it.
> 
> Following my discussion with Mainecoon, [ THIS HAPPENED](http://mainecoon76.tumblr.com/post/168539603248/cycas-joyfullynervouscreator-cycas) and I urge you all to go read it xD


	2. The Rabbit, cont.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My response in the Tumblr conversation found [here](http://mainecoon76.tumblr.com/post/168539603248/cycas-joyfullynervouscreator-cycas) between myself & Mainecoone; a follow-up for chapter 1.

“Rabbit! Tyelpë called, tottering around after the fluffy mechanical thing that Atar had made for him; Curufinwë found the ruby eyes slightly unnerving, but compared to some of the other gifts Fëanáro had bestowed upon his sons over the years, a mechanical toy rabbit that was soft and squishy was probably not worth getting worked up over. He still threw a glance Nerdanel’s way; usually Ammë had more of an idea of the destructive potential hiding behind the seemingly innocent guises of Fëanor’s gifts.

“It won’t hurt him,” she said, smiling gently and patting his arm, her eyes light with joy at watching her first grandchild playing in the sunny gardens. Curufinwë relaxed.

 

Leaving Nargothrond, he remembered that sunny day with a nostalgic sense of naivety.

The soldiers Celebrimbor commanded had come to call it the Killer Rabbit, ever since it near enough tore off the head of an Orc trying to kill his son. Curufin smiled; even from beyond life, Fëanor looked out for his family.

 

In his cell in Barad-dûr, Celebrimbor felt a softness nudge his knee; he had forgotten what softness looked like, his broken fingers shaking when he reached for the small ball of tattered and dirty fur that had followed him throughout his life; he had replaced the fur when it got too tattered, but the rubies he had never been able to bear to pry from the mechanism, even if they would have bought relief more than once in Beleriand.

“Rabbit.” he called hoarsely, watching those red eyes that always seemed to glow with some indistinguishable fire. Celebrimbor smiled with bloodstained teeth, his breath little more than a shuddering wheeze. “Goodbye, Rabbit…”


	3. Words

"Shiny silver!"

Tyelpë's first words were common: _atto, ammë, yes, no, more -_ even a _'please'._

His first request that wasn't food, however, made his ammë look at his atto like she wanted to kiss him or hit him but couldn't decide which she wanted more.

"There is no doubt he is  _your_ son, Atarinkë," Nerdanel said, patting her son's cheek fondly when he told her. "Though your words were 'my copper love'."

The kisses and laughter won, though Nyarnien never let Curufinwë forget Tyelpë's first words.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 86! Shiny silver is Curufin's pet name for his wife due to the colour of her hair. Of course, 'my copper love' was Fëanor's for Nerdanel.


	4. West of the Sun

"I told you so." Normally, Dwalin isn't a smug dwarf. Right now, however, he feels more than justified in his smugness, repeating the nerve-grating phrase several times for the pleasure of watching Thorin's ears redden in embarrassment.

"Oh, shut it, anyone could have taken that wrong turn!" Thorin scowls over his shoulder. 

"Thorin, you meant to go _west_ ," Dwalin reminds him gamely, "that IS where the Sun sets, remember?" Thorin's glare darkens. "The Sun, I remind you, which is currently _behind_ us." Thorin stomps past him.

Dwalin isn't a smug dwarf. Normally. He is right now.

"I told you so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100 exactly :o   
> I referenced this moment once in dwelf though I've never written it...


	5. The murder rabbits of Rhosgobel

Incident Report: Disaster at Rhosgobel

 

The trees silent, waiting. We smell prey.

Prey-sounds in underbrush alerts kjanisnaga.

Kjanisnaga dives onto small hop-food. Screams.

When Uruk reach him, Kjanisnaga still, dead. No hop-food.

 

Hop-food everywhere. Red eyes. Red eyes in the trees.

Screams. 

Uruk hear cackling. Hag-evil cackling. 

Uruk alone. 

 

Hop-food-slayers. Red eyes. Uruk run.

 

_Translation of incident report found in Orthanc Library, commissioned by King Elessar. Detailing the possible first sighting of the elusive Rhosgobel Rabbit of DOOM, a creature of speed and bloodthirst to match any Orc._

_Note in head-scholar's hand: no one will believe this, Feron!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translator's note: Orcs have little grasp of grammar, an annotated translation may add clarity for the reader. See the published 'Feron's Orc Tales' for more information on the myth of the murder rabbits of Rhosgobel.


	6. Starlings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is too big for a real drabble, but it's still too small to post alone, I think ;)  
> Inspired by @nyolofinwe on tumblr who said: manwë made starlings for varda; that’s why they’re so plentiful! he loved her so much he was just like, all of these are for you

“But… what are they?” Varda wondered, looking at the tiny flying creatures. As she watched, they all seemed to turn, following the lead of one, shaping wondrous figures in the air that fascinated her with their transience. There it was a circle, but now an arrow that became a wave in an instant.

“I have called them starlings, my love,” Manwë replied, satisfied as he watched the small birds fly hither and yon, but always forming constellations of a sort – just the type of bird Varda would like, he thought. “Starlings-”

He forgot what he wanted to say in the heat of her kisses, flitting like starlight through his mind, but it didn’t matter: far below, the starlings would continue to dance for her, mimicking the much slower dance of Varda’s heavens.


	7. Chapter 7

Waking in darkness was... not entirely unexpected, really, all things considered. He blinked. It made no difference. 

"Another one, I see."

"Who's there?"

"The Fisherman." The reply seemed wrapped in laughter, as though it was a funny joke. 

"I don't..."

"Understand? No. You will, though." 

It grabbed him.

 

Waking up was... rather unexpected, actually. 

Looking around, he saw only grey figures in grey robes. 

"What happened?"

"You cannot doom your fëa with words, no matter how much you swear them," someone replied, "only Eru controls the Void."

He whirled.

"Welcome to the Halls of Mandos... brother." 

They were all here. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 100!


	8. Understanding

"I don't want to go home."

Mahtan sighs. Curufinwë is too young to be so angry. "Your atar will worry."

"No. Can I stay here?"

"Why?"

" _She's_ there." 

"Lady Indis is a kind nis..."

"She's not my ammë!" So angry... and still Mahtan wonders if the anger isn't justified, even though it is directed at the wrong target in his opinion. He sighs.

"You may stay a few days. I will introduce you to my family."

 

"My family." Gesturing at Tinwië and the large painting behind her, he watches the little prince's realisation. 

 

Lifting her head from staring at the black one suddenly pressed against her stomach, Tinwië stares at him, patting small shoulders.

Mahtan shrugs. 

"This is -"

"Call me Fëanáro," the boy mumbles.


	9. The Slippers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Items of clothing Aragorn refuses to admit he owns when Elladan and Elrohir come visiting: 1) A pair of scarlet rabbits fur slippers sewn with rubies and embroidered with the motif of the White Tree done in silver thread.

They were red. And fuzzy.

Aragorn - they may call him Elessar now, but he still thought of himself as Aragorn - stared, feeling speechless in a way he had rarely felt before.

"Do you like them?" Arwen asked, smiling widely. "Lady Wilwarin claimed it was a traditional First Year of Marriage Gift in Gondor; I embroidered the tree myself."

"They're lovely, meleth," he whispered, still staring.

"Try them on!" she urged, tugging at her laces. Aragorn slowly removed his socks.

"They are very... comfortable."

"I'm glad you like them." Arwen smiled again, and Aragorn forgot all thoughts about footwear in favour of kissing her soft skin.

 

 

The next morning, Aragorn's bare feet did not greet the cold stone floors unprotected; they were encased in fluffy red slippers stitched with silver thread and a scattering of rubies.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Arwen later revealed that she modelled the slippers off a pair she remembered her mother receiving from the King of Gondor.


	10. Broken Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tyelpe with Uncle Tyelko

“It’s not going to live,” Uncle Tyelko told him, running a single finger down the downy head. “Without its mother to feed it, or teach it to fly; it won’t matter if I set the wing if it doesn’t live long enough to heal.” Tyelpë stared down at the ball of downy feathers that tweeted weakly, revealing a pink tongue inside the bright yellow beak.

“I will feed Quessë, Uncle, please,” he said, holding the small thing up towards Tyelko, turning on the eyes that usually made Atto relent and take him to the forge when he really wanted to learn things Ammë thought he was too young to learn. It worked on Uncle Tyelko, too, making him huff and blow his pale hair away from his face with a crooked smile.

“Very well, Tyelpë,” he sighed, ruffling Tyelpë’s hair. “Give me the bird. We’ll find it some food, aye?”

Tyelpë smiled brightly, nodding. His new friend would be the best bird ever, even if he still had to convince Ammë to let him keep it – but Uncle didn’t have to know that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 183 word


End file.
